


A Love Unspoken

by prescellphone



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (2015)
Genre: Deaf Character, F/M, Mostly Sadness, Slight fluff, and pain, angst as fuck, gallya
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-02
Updated: 2015-11-02
Packaged: 2018-04-29 12:13:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5127188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prescellphone/pseuds/prescellphone
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya realizes how much he loves the sound of Gaby's voice</p>
<p>Music: Nocturne in E-flat major op.9 no. 2 by Frederic Chopin, Arabesque #1 by Claude Debussy, and Where Is My Mind by Maxence Cyrin </p>
<p>Slight inspiration from the character Adam Parrish in The Raven Cycle</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Love Unspoken

* * *

 

       The soft shush of bed sheets woke Illya. He heard a heavy sigh before small arms wrapped themselves around him. Half asleep, he let Gaby scoot close to him, her chest pressed to his. Entangling her legs with his, she shivered and squeezed him closer. Her breaths were soft in his ear, just a steady rhythm for him to fall back asleep to.

       Illya had barely shut his eyes when Gaby began to hum lightly. It was hard to distinguish at first but then he began recognize a classical piece by Chopin. Surprised at first, Illya lie awake listening to Gaby try to ease herself to sleep. Her insomnia had kept her up all last night and Illya was sure she was exhausted. Even so, her humming didn’t falter.

       Illya closed his eyes in wonder. How did she know this music? He realized the answer after she shifted her feet slightly with the change in song. Of course she would know classical music, she had attended one of the most prestigious ballet schools in Germany. Unbeknownst to her, she had chosen one of the few pieces Illya knew by heart on the piano. Neither her nor Napoleon knew of his hidden talent, and he planned to keep it that way.

       The piano only held painful memories of his mother showing him the keys and his father scoffing at the idea of a young boy playing the piano. Against his father’s wishes, Illya continued to play and he became quite good at it. His mother would sit next to him and watch in amazement as his hands moved along the keys. Those same hands later gave up the piano for guns and knives. He knew his mother never would’ve wanted him to give it up, but after her death, the ivory keys were a shocking reminder of the KGB breathing down his neck. And so his love of the piano was forgotten along with his childhood.

       Illya was brought out of his thoughts by Gaby’s change in song. She began another tune with her light voice, the sound slightly muffled by her cuddling into Illya’s neck. Breathing out, Illya curved around her, his hands holding her close.

       Gaby’s humming faltered for a second before carrying on with more confidence, knowing not only she was listening now.

       Illya could see the lines of music in his head and he couldn’t help it when his hands played lightly on Gaby’s back, the ghost of a piano underneath his fingertips. He paused when another sound interrupted Gaby’s voice. Glancing at the window behind Gaby, Illya noticed rain pattering on the glass.

       He always enjoyed their missions in London. Illya was raised in harsh winters and brutal summers with lots of snow or dry heat. So when it came to rain, Illya had yet to grow use to the sound of it on tin roofs or window panes. Napoleon always complained when it rained, him preferring the hot sun in summer, and Gaby loved the winter, when everything was silenced by snow on the ground.

       With the tapping of the rain in the background, Gaby’s humming grew faint. Her eyes had fallen shut and she breathed easily across his neck. Kissing the top of her head, Illya listened to her mellow breaths and the delicate rapping of the rain before feeling himself fall peacefully back to sleep.

 

       “Illya…Illya…”

       Waking gradually, Illya made out Gaby’s voice in front of him. Fluttering his eyes open, he squinted against the sunlight and groaned irritably. It was their day off and he really wanted to spend most of it sleeping in with Gaby tucked to his chest.

       Adjusting to the sunlight, Illya’s eyes made out Gaby lying on her side next to him. Her smile was warm before leaning forward and kissing him sleepily.

       “Good afternoon.”

       Gaby’s German accent slipped through and Illya thought it sounded more pleasing than ever before. He was reaching his hand out to pull her near when he realized what she had said.

       Illya sat up, “Afternoon?”

       Gaby nodded, “I didn’t think you would succumb to my bad habits of sleeping in late, but obviously I’m rubbing off on you. It’s two in the afternoon.”

       For a second, Illya was shocked but he finally accepted that he had definitely needed the rest.             

       Gaby pecked his lips before getting up energetically, “Get dressed. We’re going out for a very late lunch.”

       The bed creaked as she launched herself towards the bathroom. Pausing at the door, Gaby turned around and stared at Illya. He met her gaze with a quizzical look.

       She exhaled, “Are you going to join me in the shower?”

       Illya smirked, already climbing out of the bed.

       Their showers together always turned into a fiasco with their volatile personalities constantly bumping against each other in such a small space. However, Gaby obviously enjoyed them because it was where Illya heard her laugh the most. It wasn’t her usual diminishing laugh sent in Waverly or Napoleon’s direction, but the one that burst from her without a thought. It was round and hearty and sometimes ended with a small snort, which always managed to make Illya chuckle and Gaby punch him.

       During this shower, Gaby began the routine of washing Illya’s hair, her fingers scratching and massaging his scalp. Illya melted in her hands every time and this was no exception. His blue eyes were closed in bliss and Gaby smirked happily. Switching jobs, Illya then got to wash her hair, his hands gentle but firm as he spread the shampoo in her hair. Gaby watched his face as he worked; his eyes concentrating rather hard for such a simple task and his mouth set in a firm line.

       Delicate words tumbled out of Gaby’s mouth, almost overwhelmed by the sound of the water, “I love you.”

       Illya hesitated halfway through shampooing her hair and met her nervous eyes. He knew he would never hear anything more beautiful than those three words in her voice.

       Smiling, Illya mumbled, “I know.”

       Gaby’s eyes looked hurt before Illya pushed her underneath the stream of water. Gasping, she glared at him as the hot water ran all the shampoo out of her hair. Chuckling, Illya clasped her hand and lured her towards him. She fought against his pull, but still ended up pressed to him.

       Illya was at peace, “I love you too.”

       Gaby smacked his chest lightly and couldn’t help the smile appearing on her face.

 

       After dressing themselves, Gaby led Illya out of the hotel, ignoring protests from a bored Napoleon down the hall.

       Rain met them once they stepped outside and Gaby groaned. With a pleased grin, Illya opened the umbrella he had brought and set off with a whiny Gaby on his arm. Not many people were out except for some men standing under a store front. As they walked past the men, Illya recognized Russian words before they abruptly ended their conversation, their eyes following Gaby and Illya. The men had looked familiar and Illya tried to think back on where he recognized them from.

       “Illya? Are you listening?” Gaby had stopped and was looking up at him, her brown eyes warm in the chilly rain.

       “Uh, sorry. What did you say?” Illya smiled politely. 

       Gaby rolled her eyes but she was smiling, “I said, I think I’m really needing some of that chocolate cake we had before.”

        Illya remembered then. The men from before were at the table next to them when they had eaten at their favorite cafe. They had seemed very interested in their conversation at the time, but Illya had been too lost in Gaby to think anything of it back then. Also, the chocolate cake had been ridiculously delicious.

        Turning to look at the entrance of the café next to them, Illya suggested, “Why don’t we just eat here? I think our place is closed on Sundays anyway.”

        Illya hoped the lie would work. The men from before had disappeared and Illya suddenly felt like they were being watched.

        Frowning, Gaby huffed, “Fine.”

        Dropping his arm, she turned to the door before Illya stopped her with a gentle hand. He just couldn’t refuse her.

        “I’ll walk down and see if it’s open.”

        Gaby smiled brilliantly before kissing his cheek and Illya’s heart swelled. He handed her the umbrella, the light tapping of the rain disappearing from above him.

         “Hurry back, I don’t want to eat lunch with a soaking wet Russian.” Her voice was teasing as Illya turned away.

        Walking swiftly, he was at the front of their café when he spotted the same men down an alley. They watched him as he glanced back at Gaby. She waved and was stepping towards him when one of the men pulled a small remote out of his jacket. Illya had enough time to step away from the front door when an explosion from inside the café sent him flying back.

        Hitting the pavement, Illya barely heard Gaby scream his name over the ringing in his ears before another blast went off. The buzzing in his ears intensified as he covered his head. Illya laid there, waiting for another explosion but instead jumped when he felt Gaby’s hands on his shoulders.

        She sat him up and his head rushed. He could barely make out the destroyed café as his eyes steadied themselves. The constant drumming in his ears didn’t subside and he felt a wave of nausea. Illya watched helplessly as Gaby’s mouth moved. He didn’t pick up a single note of her voice.

        Telling himself to breathe, Illya gripped Gaby’s arms tightly. He had been close to bombs before, the noise would eventually fade. He kept repeating this over and over in his head.

        Closing his eyes, Illya waited patiently but the ringing continued. Gaby pulled him to his feet and made him look at her. Her lips formed words, but Illya couldn’t hear them. He shook his head and pointed at his ears. Gaby’s eyes widened as she placed her hand next to his ear and snapped. He didn’t react.

        Fear was emerging in her eyes when the noise began to withdraw from his ears. Illya sighed in relief, pausing to listen for the rain and Gaby, but nothing replaced the ever soft buzzing. Illya felt sheer terror rise into his throat as he placed his hand next to his ear.

        Gaby watched with dread before an out of breath Napoleon appeared behind her. He placed a hand on Illya’s shoulder and began to speak. Illya caught one phrase on his lips, “are you okay?”

        Shaking his head, Illya began to panic. His hands trembled when he pulled Gaby to him and leaned down so his ear was aimed at her. He felt her breath touch his ear but the sound accompanying it didn’t register. He leaned back and gazed at Gaby’s worried face.

        Illya didn’t have to say or do anything before tears appeared in her eyes. Gaby had known from the moment she sat him up that something was wrong. Yanking him into a fierce hug, Gaby whispered the same three words to him over and over.

        Burying his face in Gaby’s shoulder, Illya could already feel the memory of her voice slipping away.

 

        Weeks passed and Illya was awake at some ridiculous hour in the morning. Gaby was curled up to his chest, her body rising and falling steadily. He watched rain hit the hotel window and almost punched his fist into the backboard when he couldn’t recall the sound of it.

        It had been that way for the past week. Illya was slowly noticing all the sounds he would never be able to hear again. The sound of rain, Napoleon’s smart ass way of saying Peril, Gaby moaning his name, the smooth notes of a piano, the cat’s meow from down the street, Gaby’s snort at the end of her laugh, the ticking of his father’s watch, and his own native language. It was becoming unbearably frustrating.

        Sighing deeply to calm his fury, Illya shifted so Gaby’s body blocked most of the window from his sight. Gaby woke sleepily from the movement. Surprised to see Illya eye level with her on the pillow, she reached up and brushed his cheek, her way of getting his attention so he could watch her mouth form the words.

        “Are you okay?” She spoke the words leisurely.

        Illya nodded before an immense sorrow filled his chest. A sorrow that left a gaping hole in his stomach and made him feel like dying would be better than this. Better than watching Gaby say I love you and not being able to recollect her German accent and the way she said it like she was scared of the words. She had understood that loving a KGB agent was reckless and most likely to end in heartbreak, but how could she have guessed it would end this way instead? They had both been prepared for pain, but not this dull ache sitting in their chests.

        Taking in a shaky breath to clear his thoughts, Illya hid his face in her neck. Since most of emotions boiled all together into anger, Illya hadn’t shed a tear since his mother’s death. Anger gave him satisfaction, and sadness had given him nothing but hopelessness.

        But once Gaby began to stroke his neck and back soothingly, he couldn’t stop the first tear and then the rest followed. Gaby continued to draw warm circles on his back with her palm as he tried to control himself.

        When he finally calmed down enough to slow his breathing, Illya felt a hum against his ear. Freezing in his spot, Illya felt the buzz continue and he could slowly begin to pick out the small changes in the vibrations. He realized as the vibrations followed a pattern that he was feel Gaby’s humming. He instantly recognized the Chopin song. For a second, he could remember the gentle sound of the piano playing the song.

        Happy for the first time since the accident, Illya leaned back so he could press a soft kiss to Gaby’s surprised mouth. With a sigh, she wrapped her arms around his head as they kissed, her own tears sliding into her hair.

        Illya had a realization as he held Gaby close. He had always been a man of many actions and few words, so how could he had ever thought he would never hear I love you from Gaby ever again? Illya understood better than most that actions spoke loudly than words and just now, without saying a word, Gaby had said it to him.

        Kissing Gaby fiercely, Illya felt a tranquility settle in him. Who needed to hear three little words anyway?

 


End file.
